Ides of Ire from an Irish Mama

No lions walking through the Capitol square.  No owls shrieking at noon day.  

No shrieking women walking up and down all on fire.

BUT

One angry woman with smoke coming out her ears. 

That's how my morning began on this Ides of March, and I was wishing that my Irish blood would just calm down a bit.  So was Bill.

The blood has, at least, turned tepid, thanks to assurance that the mess I found outside my door this morning will be taken care of.

I won't mention names, but I'll simply say a rather big truck came into our driveway last night.  

And, left a mess.

Furthermore, an Irish woman gets a little steamed when the mess is part of her lawn which she's been tidying up for the past week.

Slowly but surely and as the snow has melted, my rake and my hands have been busy, cleaning up hundreds of soggy----if you've been reading, you know----dog logs and the residue left from a winter's worth of blowing and dropping of leaves, bark, needles, etc.

Several cartloads have gone to the manure pile, and wherever I've raked this week, the grass has come alive. 

Yesterday afternoon I was feeling pretty good about how things were looking around the house.  

Granted,  we still have a lot of snow to melt, but clean, green grass has been dominating the landscape little more each day.

So, when I went out the garage door this morning to find big wide tire tracks on my lawn next to the door and two big patches of sod ripped from the surface, the wood stove in the living room suddenly had some competition on heating up the house.

Bill just kept saying, "They always park at the end of the driveway.  I don't know why he came in this far."

Later, when I went outside and there was more daylight, I could see traces of inefficient truck driving all the way out the driveway.

My usual morning walk cooled me down, and the assurance that "We will take care of this" from a nice man in a complaint department has settled the waters.

I still worry, however, about this being the Ides of March, and I can tell you I'll be really careful throughout the day, looking ahead to Sunday when I open the door and it will be a true "top o' the morning to ya."  

In the meantime, I'll just bid farewell to all friends, Romans and countrymen and ladies who have lent me your ears on this morning of griping.

Happy Friday.  Stay safe, sane and do avoid those lions and shrieking women.